


Je T'aime

by HollowRosewood



Series: A Series Of Revolutions [1]
Category: American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Historical RPF
Genre: Blood and injury mentioned, Fluff, Lams (implied), M/M, The Battle of Monmouth, if that makes you uncomfortable dont read, it's not terrible, remember there is a huge age difference between Gilbert and Washington, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9285467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollowRosewood/pseuds/HollowRosewood
Summary: The Battle of Monmouth was disastrous.Despite the victory, many men were lost and many men were injured. The reputation of the nation was on the line.Yet the Marquis de Lafayette did not care for politics, did not care about the reputation.He only fought for two things:The freedom of America and General George Washington.





	

The Battle of Monmouth certainly wasn’t what the Marquis de Lafayette had anticipated. From the very beginning, the battle had been a disaster. All the Marquis could recall was his blade slicing through red coats as he forced the men forward, most having already retreated at the order of another commander who failed to do his job. He remembered losing track of his friends in the midst of battle, panicking for a moment before remembering that he had to win the fight first before he risked them all getting killed. 

He could win this battle. He could find his friends. He could make Washington proud. 

At the thought of pride emitting from the older gentleman, pride directed at Lafayette, the french officer continued his plight through the red coats with a new fury. He shouted at the officers below, encouraging the men to continue forwards, to push back their oppressors. The rest of the battle had been a blur, losing sight of himself and the others until he saw the backs of the lobsters and the cheers of the living soldiers around him. He glanced back to the top of the hill behind him to try and find Washington, to see how the General felt about Lafayette's work, to see if he had made the General proud but the grin on his face dissipated quickly as he read the Generals expression. The man, despite their victory, was livid. He didn’t make eye contact with Lafayette, instead scanned the battlefield with his steely eyes and turned his horse around to race back to their camp. 

He hadn’t realized he had been shot in the leg until he tried to follow Washington and collapsed to the ground. 

He found John in the medical tent, sitting up and grumbling as the blonde placed the tip of brandy to his lips and swung the bottle back. His shoulder had been wrapped by one of the doctors, strips of gauze doubling in size and wrapping around the front of his naked chest. Lafayette’s leg too had been wrapped, though he insisted that he was okay to walk, determined to see his beloved General. 

Lafayette limped across the tent to John and smirked at the American, placing his hands on the others thighs and leaning forward, his head cocked to the side and his eyes alight. 

“Why is it you grumble _mon coeur_? We have won the battle, non?” Lafayette asked, the affectionate term slipping from his tongue easily, trying to relax the other whilst kneading his knuckles into tense thighs. Though Laurens did not belong to him, and he, in turn, did not belong to Lauren's, the two still shared a level of intimacy they had no intentions of exploring but did not mind playing off of the affections. 

“Yes, yes…” Laurens answered, leaning back and supporting himself with one arm, placing the alcohol in between his legs. Despite his agreement with Lafayette, the blonde still looked troubled. His brow set deep, a frown etched into his features, his eyes clouded with a mix of anger and confusion, of unrest. “It is.. Nothing… Though I fear Hamilton may have a point when he says we celebrate too much…”

This response caused the teasing grin on Lafayette's face to fall, replaced with slight pout as he gazed at his older companion. He glanced out to his left, looking through the open flap of the tent to see soldiers dancing around the fire, cheering and celebrating to their victory at Monmouth. Didn’t the soldiers have a right to cheer? They have won another day, can sleep another night, surely life in itself is a victory worth celebrating? 

As if reading Lafayette's now troubled mind, Laurens sighed and sat up, lifting his hand to cup Lafayette's neck. His fingers, strong and calloused, curled underneath Lafayette's hair and the rough pad of a thumb came up to lightly caress his cheek. 

“Ignore me my friend,” Lauren's said, his voice much kinder than his previous tone. Much softer. “The wound and the alcohol has me in a foul mood..” 

“Perhaps it is the lack of an exotic companion that truly disturbs you.” Lafayette teased, grinning once more and leaning slightly into John's touch. John barked out a laugh and released Lafayette from his hold to lean back once more and take another swing from his bottle. He said not a word, but his cheeks had flushed a deep pink and it was then that Lafayette knew he had won. 

Though Lafayette had not seen Hamilton yet since he had raced off after Lee before the battle, he knew by Laurens behaviour that the third member of their intimate trio was alive and well. He could also tell, however, that John wanted the Caribbean man near him and with him to solidify his safety. A couple of glances across a field were not enough to feel secure about a friend's well being. He knew that if Hamilton were alive and well, he would currently be at the General's side and Lafayette got an idea. 

“I will go and find your _petit lion_!” Lafayette exclaimed excitedly, nodding and not even giving Laurens a chance to respond as he bounded out the tent flap. 

As he walked he would occasionally glance down at his leg, slightly wobbly and still pained beneath his weight despite his attempt to distribute most of his pressure to his other leg. He hadn’t even realized that the ball of an enemy had lodged into his calf until he tried to follow his beloved General, couldn’t even say for certain how long the ball had been lodged in his leg at that point. Looking up and around the camp, admiring and congratulating the American soldiers that were truly no more than boys, the frenchman began to think of Lauren's words.

He knows with great pain that the Americans hid things from him and the other foreign officers, knew that his friends, as well as the Germans, were left out of some very important loop and it wounded his pride a bit, to know that even his closest companions couldn’t trust him with the secrets of a nation he was defending. Didn’t they realize that he did not care for the atrocities and betrayals within the ranks? That he fought for the idea of this grand nation, not for the politics within it? It hurt him deeply to think his friends had thought him so shallow, but he supposes that their fear is justifiable. Should any of the other diplomats report how unstable the Continental Army was, then their governments would surely pull their men and their financial aid from the battle and thus resulting in a loss of freedom. 

With his heart heavy, he finally approached the building that had become Washington's headquarters in their stay. He ran his palm along the brick wall then up the smooth columns near the door frame. Candles lit windows from inside and he assumed that Alexander sat below in the window nearest to him, working. In an attempt to lift his own mood, Lafayette peaked through the window to make faces at Hamilton but pouted when he saw that the room was empty. Though the person in the room must have left recently, as a candle still burned and papers were still scattered around the desk. 

He entered the building and glanced around, finding the place to be eerie when it was empty. He had become so accustomed to the laughing of aides, the scratching of quills, the liveliness of Washington's headquarters, that to enter the building when no one seemed to be present gave Lafayette chills.

It was the silence that confirmed his suspicions, as most tended to evacuate the premises when the General was in a wretched mood. 

The silence was broken by muffled voices then the slamming of a door, followed by light and rapid footsteps. Lafayette's gaze turned towards the stairs to find Hamilton racing down them, his face flushed and brow furrowed. He quickly sidestepped in front of his friend, blocking off the bottom step and finding himself smirking as he still towered over the redhead. 

Hamilton opened his mouth to snap at Lafayette for blocking his path, but the frenchman stopped him before he had the chance. The Marquis embraced Hamilton tightly in his arms, feeling how tense the shorter man was within his hold. He rubbed at Hamilton's back, his long fingers digging into tight shoulder blades and the other wilted at his touch, burying his face into the crook of Lafayette's neck. 

“What disturbs you _mon petit lion_?” He asked quietly, proud of how well he could read his friends. Hamilton, flushed and clearly frustrated, tended to wilt at compassion if offered at the right level and time. When one was too forward too slowly, Hamilton would scowl and walk away from the advances. When one wasn’t forward enough, Hamilton would find doubt in the relationship and walk away before he could get hurt. He supposed that the latter was John's problem, but he would ponder that another day. 

He withheld a laugh as the hot air from Hamilton’s huff tickled his neck and the auburn man pulled back from Lafayette's embrace and rubbed at the darkening bags under his eyes. 

“It’s the General…” Hamilton huffed again, dropping his arm and diverting his gaze to the side with a frown on his face, brow set and violet eyes scanning for something but not able to find it. Troubled, wilting, frustrated, it was so unusual to see his friend embody these three words and he wondered briefly what his beloved General could have done to cause these emotions to emit from the freckled caribbean man. Lafayette stayed silent though, knowing the words would tumble from Hamilton's mouth quicker as long as he was given the time to speak. 

And speak he did, 

“When will he realize that just because I don’t have a name in this country does not mean he can let out his frustrations on me!” He started, moving to cross his arms but think better of it as he tended to talk with his hands. “It’s because I have nowhere to go, to property to retreat too and he knows this...So he uses it to his advantages. Did you know what he did Gilbert?” 

His gaze turned up to Lafayette, eyes wide and glinting with his mix of emotions and Lafayette placed a hand on Hamilton’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him, knew that nothing could hurt the other more than the feeling of being used. 

“He summoned me while I was writing the report and I quickly finished my last sentence and went up to speak with him! Then he scolds me for being late to his call, despite the fact it only took two minutes to finish my thought and stand at attention before him! Then he begins to complain about the battle, his tone harsh and-ugh!” He let out a frustrated sound, looking down and shaking his head. “As if I were the fault! Although, this entire disaster could have been avoided if he had just listened to Tallmadge and not given Lee the command!”

“Hush hush…” Lafayette cooed, pulling Hamilton off of the stairs and to the door, catching the awkward limp in the man's walk and he supported him slightly more. “Do not speak words of distrust in such malice… I assure you the General is merely frustrated at his own mistakes-”

“And what gives him the right to take such frustrations out on me?” Hamilton interrupted, glaring up at Lafayette now, always so aggressive if he finds someone disagreeing with him. 

“Alexander…” Lafayette cooed, allowing the name to roll off his tongue and Alexander looked down, crossing his arms. The frenchman reached up and cupped the other's face similar to how John held him earlier and bent a bit so they could be eye to eye. “The war is frustrating on everyone and I’m sure he means nothing by it… It simply means you are his most trusted companion and he has the most faith in you. He needs you Hamilton and would not risk to loose you with an aggressive tone. Get out of your head mon coeur..” 

When Hamilton looked down, a heavy sigh escaped him and Lafayette tallied another victory for himself in the back of his mind, smiling down at him. He stood straight and ran his fingers through the auburn curls of Hamilton’s hair,

“Now, why do you struggle to walk?” Lafayette asked.

“The blasted red coats shot my horse out from under me and the damn thing landed on top of my legs.” Hamilton responded bitterly, looking down still and pulling at the lace of his shirt, his head tilting a bit to lean into Lafayette's hand in his hair. The frenchman winced at the image and wondered how lucky Hamilton was to have not broken any of the bones in his legs. Although with this information, he was sure that the other has yet to go to medical tent and Lafayette raised a brow at Hamilton. 

“Go to the medical tent an- hush, do not look at me like that- go and have the doctors examine your legs. Laurens is there waiting for you and wishes to know you are okay…” Lafayette said, removing his hand from Hamilton’s hair. The man nodded and tried in vain to fix his queue but failed, smiling at Lafayette in a quiet thanks and stepping out the door. 

Lafayette watched Hamilton disappear, making sure he was heading off in the direction of the medical tent before slowly turning to look up the stairs. He walked up slowly, being careful with his leg and taking his time as to not injure himself more, knowing he would disappoint the General if that were the case.  He slowly approached the door and paused in front of it, listening intently to see if he could hear anything from within and was only met with silence. 

He took a deep breath and slowly opened the door, stepping quietly into the room without invitation and closing the door behind him. Washington didn’t look up from where he was scribbling angrily down on his parchment and Lafayette took this moment to analyze the man he looked up to with a careful eye. 

He looked weary, angry, brows set in deep on his forehead, frown lines permanently etched into his face and it hurt Lafayette to see the man in such a state. He came forward slowly, his eyes traveling up the older gentleman’s body slowly, taking in his sights. Rough, calloused hands, broad shoulders, intelligent eyes, strong arms. His aura, his overwhelming authoritative presence that demanded the full attention of the room made Lafayette's heart stutter in his chest.  

He began forward again, slowly, quietly, until he was at the end of Washington's desk and he could place his hands to support himself. 

“What is it?” Washington asked, his voice low and gravelly, anger and annoyance in his tone. 

“I have come to check up on you _mon amour_ …” Lafayette cooed quietly, leaning forward still and flashing a soft smile when the older gentleman looked up at him. Something changed in Washington’s demeanor, he softened and became kind for just a moment while he laid his sights on Lafayette before hardening once more with a frown. 

“I cannot delight in your company at the moment my dear Marquis, I am very busy.” Washington huffed at him, shaking his head and returning to his work. He lifted his quill and dipped it into the ink well before continuing to scrawl onto the parchment. Lafayette pouted but turned away for a moment to wobble to a chair. He dragged it over, making sure the legs made as much noise as possible before he plopped it down in front of Washington's desk and he lowered himself into it.  He rested his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, watching Washington write for a moment. He couldn’t help but grin slightly as the General tried to hide his own smile at the sheer silliness of the Marquis. 

“I am surprised you are writing such letters yourself… Did you scare away your little quill?” Lafayette asked, his voice teasing as he quirked an eyebrow up at the other. Although he seemed to tease, there was a note of seriousness in his question. He watched Washington sigh and glance up at him over the rim of his reading glasses, perched at the tip of his nose. 

“I assume I have upset him.” Washington hummed, almost sadly. 

“Greatly.” Lafayette quipped, leaning back in his seat and resting his hands on his knees now. Washington sighed and adjusted his glasses on his nose, turning to look out the window and bringing his quill to his lips. Something he always did, Lafayette noted, when he was uncomfortable. 

“Another apology is in order it seems…” He shook his head, ashamed of himself as he watched the men celebrating below him. 

Lafayette leaned forward again, bending slightly over the desk to pluck the quill from Washington's hand and dragged the feather beneath his nose, causing the older man to sneeze and turn away. 

“Perhaps,” Lafayette sang, waving the feather teasingly in the General's face before pulling it into his lap and out of sight. “You stop ranting to same poor soul, stop breaking his trust, and start having faith in me.”

“Gilbert I can not do that-”

“And why not?” Lafayette asked, sitting up and tossing the feather up in his hands. He was concerned, annoyed, wanted to have Washington's trust, to have the older gentleman speak with him about his problems. To be the companion that will help calm the General when angry, that will listen to his words and comfort him out of his stupor. He was offended that his ranking as a foreign officer prevented him from creating this connection with the General and he could not stand his nationality stopping him any longer. 

“I will not think less of you, less of this war, or less of this nation mon amour…” He continued before Washington could answer his rhetoric. “If anything, being left so far in the dark and so far from your emotions has left me.. How you say? Cold. I feel isolated among my friends, missing a piece of a puzzle and I am unable to console their troubles for the sake of politics. I am unable… I am unable to console you.”

Washington stayed silent for a moment, watching as the Marquis stood from his seat and limped around the room as he quietly conveyed his emotions to the General. As he spoke to the General, struggling with his english, stumbling over a few words like he usually did if he was fueled with emotions. The General looked down at his parchment, merely a few words scribbled in to try and make the sentence he couldn’t remember forming, had been too frustrated to think straight and had kicked his writer out of the room without thinking. Perhaps Lafayette was right. If they were to share their affections, it only makes sense for them to share their emotions and feelings as well. Lafayette had always confided in the General, late at night when he felt as if he wasn’t enough for the nation, when he felt as if he were letting down his friends, and only know does Washington realize it only fair to do the same. 

He looked up to see that Lafayette was watching, his wide and youthful eyes watching Washington expectantly. Hopefully. 

The General sighed again and gave him a soft, rare little smile. He slid off his glasses slowly, placing them on the desk in front of him and folded his hands on the desk. 

“Ask me if I’m okay then, just ask... “ Washington said, his voice quiet and he flushed as Lafayette cheered with glee. 

The Marquis was overwhelmed with happiness when the General had decided to confide in him. He raced around the side of the desk, ignoring the pain in his leg as he stepped too quickly for his own weight and he took Washington’s rough hand in his own, kissing the top of it, bending in front of him. 

“Are you okay mon amour?” Lafayette asked, his voice quiet, hazel eyes brimming and glowing with excitement and compassion as he pressed another kiss to Washington’s knuckles. 

He suddenly felt himself pulled forwards, his own soft lips pressing to the Generals thin chapped ones. His lanky body tumbled into the older mans and he fell on top of him, into the others lap and he felt strong thick thighs beneath. Rough hands moved on his body, one to cup his cheek and hold their lips closer as the other wrapped around his torso and held their bodies together. 

The loose braid that held his red waves tumbled apart as Washington dragged his fingers through it, eliciting a slight moan from Lafayette that he kiss off his lips. 

“I am with you my love…” Washington murmured quietly, affection so rare in his usually gravely and growly tone. “I could not be any better…” 

Lafayette's cheeks flushed and he adjusted himself, slotting thin legs on either side of Washington and under the arms of the chair. He cupped the General’s face in his hands and steadied himself on the man’s lap, the silence of the house now compatible and filled with their affections. 

He placed his hands on the General’s chest and pushed back a bit, trying not to blush at the pecks just beneath his palms concealed by a vest and a thin white shirt. He looked down at him with a slight frown, his own brows now furrowing and he pouted just a bit, offended, 

“You are so cruel… How dare you use my affections for you to divert my longing for you to confide in me…” He said, frowning down at Washington. The man grinned lightly up at Lafayette and continued to run his hand through the tangled hair, pulling out the ribbon and tossing it onto the desk.

“I promise you my love, my light,” Washington hummed, showering Lafayette in light praises and pulling down the cravat to lightly kiss his neck. “I will come to you, I will speak to you.. I will give you my trust, my words, my feelings… No matter how ashamed of them I may be…” 

Satisfied with this answer, Lafayette burst into a grin and looped his arms over Washington's shoulders, leaning forward to nuzzle him affectionately and bury his nose into the other's neck. He inhaled the scent of Washington, gunpowder and sweat as well as lavender and other sweet oils from the powder that Lafayette had bought him. He decided in that moment that he would soon need to replace Washington’s powder with a scent that fit him, lavender too soft and gentle. Only perfect for the intimate moments they shared, in which the rough hands of the older gentleman softer caressed the frenchman's back.

_“Je t’aime…”_ Lafayette sang quietly, pleased with his arms around Washington, with Washington’s arms around him. Their limbs, tangled yet slotting perfectly together, forming to the chair as they sat, the candle illuminating them as the men continued to celebrate below. 

_“Je t’aime…”_ Washington hummed back, nuzzling back into Lafayette. They did not need to celebrate with the men, to drink brandy to feel their victory. They only needed this, the soft and quiet embrace that lasted late into the night, they only needed each other. It was a victory they both could celebrate. 

**Author's Note:**

> Before any of you get in a little fit, yes it is historical descriptions. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this! I did it as one of my requests on the Hamilton Amino!


End file.
